The Non-Existant Crime

Is it truly a crime when no one has committed it? Is it truly a murder and arson when no one will ever find out? When you are reading this, I am probably none existent, somewhere deep beneath the comfort of the earth under some country whose name you have not heard of. I did what I had to do in life, and that was all that mattered, as is my regret. It was a perfect crime entwined with love and hate.

My story began like all others, in a humble town that no one knew the name of. I just graduated from a school that no one has known with an architect degree. It was a poor town then, no one really did anything of value. People came and went, without buying and without stopping. There was little money, and little incentive to do better. Staring across the car-filled streets, all in shining colors reflecting off the golden sun, it was as if they were gibing at us, moving with such wealth but will never stop by and make a stop. That was the fate of an interstate highway town.

That changed, however, when the Jewelry Locale opened up half way across my old house. It was hiring, so I went to sign up in a hurry because jobs, like money, were scarce in this area. When I got there, the flamboyancy of the newly opened shop astonished me to such a degree that it was hard to believe that such building can even exist in such a place as this. It was not big, granted, but it was definitely tidy, outside or inside. It was tidy, yes, and organized too. No matter where you laid your eyes, something will remind you of the brilliancy of the jewelry, and the price that no other place offers. The sight of such wealth gave me a slight tingle, perhaps just a reaction of realizing that the wealth was no longer moving away from us; it was coming to us.

I became the clerk there, the only clerk, but the most efficient thing in the world. Every day, I handle two to some five hundred customers; I was always smiling regardless of whether they were buying or not, never complaining, never...